A Queen's Champion
by The Wandering Bard
Summary: Henrietta, the young Queen of Tristain, after attending Louise and Saito's wedding and jealous of their happiness, attempts to summon her own familiar. Even though it is forbidden, she ends up summoning a familiar who turns out to be a champion of the League of Legends. Little did she know how much of an impact the two of them would have on Halkeginia as evil stirs once again.
1. Warrior of the North

**A Queen's Champion**

Warrior of the North

* * *

Queen Henrietta of Tristain sat alone in the middle of her bed, hugging her legs to her chest as she rested her chin on her knees. Her crown was off, placed on top of one of the bedside tables. She recalled the earlier events of the day: the official grand wedding of Sir Saito Hiraga, Knight of Tristain, and Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Valliere, her closest childhood friend and third daughter of the eminent and noble Valliere family.

It was a very happy and wonderful affair, one that was sure to be recorded prominently in the history books. Many people attended, wanting the chance to see the two heroes be wed. Nobles from all over Halkeginia arrived - and the man who presided over the ceremony was none other than the Pope of Romalia himself. After all, Saito and Louise had been pivotal in saving the continent from destruction and chaos. Of course there were also few common folk, or plebeians as they were called, because the young couple had become good friends with a few of them through their adventures.

Henrietta had watched it all with a smile, attending as Queen of Tristain and also as Louise's closest childhood friend, but deep down her heart ached and a sadness consumed her. The sadness of loneliness. A loneliness created mostly because of her position as a member of the Royal Family, first as Princess and then as Queen. Her own love had long since passed from the world, or at least it seemed so long ago. His last words to her had been for her to love another, and yet the one other person she found herself loving was already taken.

So what was left for her? Was it her fate not to find lasting love? She had been able to ignore it for so long now, particularly because there was important work to be done to save her kingdom and the whole continent. But now that there was peace, now that it was all over, she found herself once again alone.

Her closest friend Louise had Saito, and Henriette envied her because of that. Why could she not find someone for herself as well? And with an assured time of peace ahead, talks of her need to marry were bound to arise. Soon, the political and social pressure to marry will most likely force her to marry some high-ranking noble simply because it was required of her. The only other alternative was if she could find someone else herself, but aside from Saito she had not found anyone else alive worthy of her heart.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not realize that the sky outside had begun to brighten and the sun soon was poking its head over the horizon. She blinked, shaking her head groggily as she lay back down on her soft, comfortable bed. Her body ached, sore from having remained in the same position for hours and tired from having not slept at all.

Henrietta let out a sigh. What was she to do?

Then an idea popped into her head. An idea that was so crazy that she wondered what would happen once people found out. An idea that had as much chance of failure as success, and yet, it was an idea she was willing to try. After all, if Louise was able to do it, perhaps she could as well. She knew that it was expressly forbidden, and yet she wanted to do it. She _needed _to. Her only hope was that it would work the same way as it did with Louise, but doubt gnawed at her as fate had been cruel to her love life for a long time now. But perhaps this would be different, and she wanted to take that chance.

Getting out of bed with renewed spirit and ignoring the protests of her aching, tired body, Henrietta grabbed her wand and opened one of the floor-to-ceiling windowed doors that led out onto her spacious private balcony. She stepped out swiftly and breathed in the chilly, fresh morning air. Her body shivered slightly at the coolness of the outdoor temperature in comparison to the warmth inside of her room.

The balcony was large and spanned the length of her Royal bedchambers, which was of course very big.

She gazed out over the castle and the surrounding land, marveling as she usually did at the sight and the beauty of it all. Then she turned her attention to the task at hand. There was definitely enough space here to perform the ritual.

She hesitated. The nobles of her kingdom will not be happy about this, and even her mother would most likely disapprove. But she wanted this. Every fiber of her being was telling her that this was okay. That she should get on with it and let the chips fall where they may. Even though her mind told her that this would not go over well politically or even socially, she at least had to try. Besides, it might not even work out the way she wanted it to. She might summon a normal familiar, which she can always banish later on or at least keep it hidden.

She needed to try it. She wanted to try it. And at that moment she was crazy enough and desperate enough to go through with it.

She steeled herself and stiffened her body as she raised her right arm, wand in hand. She concentrated on her magic as she recalled the necessary wand movements as well as the required chant, though the actual content of the chant of course was up to the caster to determine.

"Heed me, my familiar that exists somewhere in this vast universe. A familiar of strength and beauty, of love and duty. Listen to my summons and the cry of my heart. I need you now, come forth and answer my call!" she cried as she felt the magic build up around her, coursing through her. The tip of her wand glowed as the magic released itself.

Magical energy crackled a few feet in front of her, coalescing into one sphere of bright energy. A second after the sphere formed there was a blinding flash that caused Henrietta to stumble backwards and fall on her butt, her eyes closing involuntarily to protect against the intense light.

It took a few seconds of blinking before she could see properly. She was filled half with dread and half with excitement as she opened her eyes to look at what familiar she had managed to summon. As soon as her gaze fell upon the familiar, her eyes widened and her heart began to race.

Lying face down on the stone floor of her balcony was a muscular young man with long dark hair tied into a ponytail that ran down his back. The reason she knew he was muscular was simply because he wore no shirt. He was very fit with well-defined muscles that looked chiseled into his skin by a master sculptor.

The summoned man wore strange metallic armor with markings and designs that she had never seen before, and that armor covered only the lower half of his body up to his abdomen, where a giant belt held it together on him. A thick leather strap ran diagonally across his torso, from the lower right part of his body to his upper left shoulder, affixed to which was a thick, two-layered shoulder plate. The skull of some horned creature, with ice blue jewels for eyes, was fashioned out of metal and lay upon the shoulder plate. Wrapped around his forearms were arm guards with the same styling and metalwork as the rest of his armor, with the similar ice blue gems.

That was when she noticed that his armor looked very worn, as if he had dropped in right after a battle. Chunks of the armor were missing; there were numerous cracks, scratches, and cuts into the steel. Even his shoulder plate looked damaged and the leather strap was torn and ripped in some places. Surprisingly, other than a few bruises and minor scrapes, the man himself seemed to be unscathed and she wondered how that could be given the state of his armor.

Slowly, she walked over to him and knelt beside him. Using all her strength, she managed to roll him over onto his back, finally being able to take a look at his face for the first time. He had sharp features, with a prominent nose and thick black eyebrows that matched his hair and his well-groomed beard and mustache that framed his mouth. He looked both wild and regal, which was a strange notion to her since those two seemed to be at extreme opposites of each other.

Henrietta knelt beside her summoned familiar, studying him while at the same time coming to terms with the fact that not only had she gone through with the summoning but she succeeded in getting a human familiar. What remained was to simply seal the familiar contract with a kiss, but she hesitated at first. Once the contract was sealed, there was truly no turning back as the contract would bind them with the strongest and deepest of magics. Death would be the only way out of the contract.

She had gone so far already, however, to simply quit now. Besides, Henrietta had no idea how to banish a summoned familiar, and she did not have any desire to kill him. When she really thought about it, moving forward and sealing the contract was really the only option she had left. Steeling herself, her heart pounding mightily in her chest, she leaned forward and brought her face close to his. As she was within a mere inch of his face, she closed her eyes and kept going. Their lips met, briefly, as she quickly pulled back.

Almost instantly, the man had a sharp intake of breath and his eyes fluttered open and widened in shock, revealing sharp, bright teal blue eyes. His entire body glowed for a few seconds as the contract took effect, before everything returned to normal.

Henrietta was still kneeling beside him, amazed at what had happened in the last few minutes. She felt a little lightheaded from the exertion of the summoning and a little from the kiss, her heart still pounding away in her chest from the latter. She laid one hand on top of another on her lap as she watched him.

From what she could see, he seemed to be disoriented, blinking several times and shaking his head lightly. Eventually, he looked around and spotted the young purple-haired Queen with the slightest hint of surprise passing through his features. He sat up, some of his well-toned muscles flexing at the motion, and looked around the room as he tried to determine where in Valoran he was. There was a slight chill in the room, but it did not bother him in the slightest. He was used to far colder conditions than this.

The man noticed that he was on a balcony, with large floor-to-ceiling glass windows through which he could see inside to a bedroom that was large and spacious. The architecture and stonework was of excellent quality. The linens, furniture, and decorations all looked very expensive and well-made, evidence of the wealthiness of this young lady who knelt beside him. All of it was unfamiliar to him, and that made him wary.

He looked back at Henrietta with a confused and questioning look, hoping to get some answers from the young woman.

"H-Hello..." she said meekly, unsure of what to say. No doubt he did not understand the nature of their relationship now or what had just happened. Any questions that he had, she was more than willing to answer in order to make things perfectly clear. She only hoped that they could understand each other's speech.

"Hello, miss," his voice was deep and strong, which Henrietta found rather alluring, "Where am I? This is not any part of the League that I remember..."

"The League?" she repeated, as if doing so might spark a memory of it. Sadly, she had no idea what he was talking about, and sincerely hoped that he was not some crazy person of a familiar. At the very least, she was relieved that they were able to understand to each other at least.

"Yes. The League of Legends. Surely you have heard of it?" he said and then he concentrated as he tried to remember his most recent memory, "I was battling in the Summoner's Rift and had been, I am ashamed to admit, defeated in battle. I was supposed to respawn back at my team's camp, but then the next thing I know, I've awakened here..." he gestured around the room with his right hand. Wherever here really was.

Henrietta was completely lost. League of Legends? Summoner's Rift? Respawn? These words meant nothing to her, and she explained as much. At least she understood now why he seemed like he had recently returned from battle: because he actually had. For a moment she allowed herself to picture him battling a horde of dark enemies, and she felt her pulse quicken again.

He was troubled by her response, or at least lack thereof. A wealthy young woman, obviously living in some castle from the looks of the room and balcony, apparently had no idea what the League of Legends was. This was not sitting well with him at all, though he did not find it surprising in the slightest that fate once again chose to pick on him.

"If this is not a part of the League... then where am I, exactly? And how did I get here?"

"Well," she began as she wondered herself where this man had come from, "You are in Tristania, capital of the Kingdom of Tristain, located in northwestern Halkgeinia." She paused, clasping her hands together on her lap. He said something about not having heard about any of those places, which was strange to her. "As for how you get here... well.. I... uh... I summoned you."

"I thought you said this was not part of the League, and yet you are a summoner?" he was utterly confused at this point, and actually cast a suspicious glance at her. "What trickery is this?" the accusatory tone made her flinch a little, but she did not back down from his suspicious gaze.

"This is no trick, sir!" she replied quickly and honestly, then realizing she had raised her voice she continued timidly, "I summoned you here to be my familiar." She blushed a little as she caught herself checking him out. She could not help but look since he was shirtless after all. Thankfully, he did not seem to notice.

The man started shaking his head, looking around the room again hoping that maybe a second look around might reveal any clues. "I... do not understand." Glancing back at her, he asked, "And who _are_ you exactly, miss?"

"My name is... Henrietta, and I am Queen of Tristain. What's... what's your name?"

His bright blue eyes gazed into her own similarly light blue ones. "I am Tryndamere, First Warrior of the northern tribes of Valoran."

* * *

**Author's notes: **Yet another anime series that I like - though I definitely like Henrietta better as a main character.

Yes, you read that right. I decided to take Tryndamere from League of Legends and bring him into this world... I think no one's tried him before. haha why did I pick him? Well, first of all he is human. Second, he has the strongest attack damage and wields a giant sword, not to mention him being and looking like a general badass. Two things though: one he is younger and not as big as he actually is (because otherwise he would be an absolute giant in this universe, imho) and his sword has also been reduced in size to match. That said, he and his sword are still big and strong.

This is the face I'm going for (the barbarian king skin), but less old and the facial hair isn't as long to reflect that: www leagueoflegendsskins com/images/champions/splash/Tryndamere_


	2. Come to Terms

**A Queen's Champion**

Come to Terms

* * *

Tryndamere studied the purple-haired young woman closely, acutely aware of the fact that she was quite attractive. She was apparently the queen of this kingdom, which he found a little hard to believe given her youth. Something must have happened to have forced her into such a position at an early age, unless it was customary for this society to bestow such an important title and position to young rulers who undoubtedly had little experience.

Finding that he was uncomfortable in his current position, he changed his sitting position as he brought his legs underneath him, crossing them.

"Tryndamere..." she repeated his name, as if testing how it sounded with her own voice. "What does it mean... to be First Warrior?"

He was taken aback by the question, not having expected to have to explain what it meant. Taking his time, he mulled over how best he would describe the title. "What does it mean? To be First Warrior is to be... the strongest fighter of all the northern tribes. It means responsibility in directing the armies in battle. It means defending the honor and safety of the tribes from all aggressors. It means being the champion of the northern tribes... champion of my people." It also meant that he would have been able to challenge for the position of king. King of the Barbarians, they would have called him, had he been given some more time to carry out his plans. Unfortunately, fate had a habit of interrupting the best laid plans and brought him here to a place he assumed was far removed from Valoran.

"I see," she said, "So you are a champion." She seemed to study him then.

He straightened a little at being called that, pride swelling in him. He had fought long and hard to gain the title of First Warrior. It was no easy task to accomplish, particularly for one so young such as himself. In fact, he was the youngest to ever become First Warrior and served as an inspiration to all the tribes of the north of what they could accomplish if they set their minds to it.

The greatest weakness of the tribes was always their lack of unity. Their divisions prevented them from becoming a force to reckon with as the tribes often fought with one another, greatly weakening them as a whole and thus making them easy prey for the established kingdoms of Valoran, namely Demacia and Nox. Not only did it make them easy to handle militarily, it also weakened their political influence and thus they were relegated to the background as Demacia and Nox dictated the terms of power and control in Valoran.

He had hoped to be the one to bring back the glory and might of the northern tribes. Destiny seemed to call to him as he rose through the ranks quickly, gaining honor and respect for his fighting prowess as well as having a good head on his shoulders. For once there seemed to be hope that the northern tribes might be united under one banner once more, and that the barbarians of the north may finally have a say in how Valoran would be shaped going forward.

He scratched the back of his head. "Excuse me, your highness," he said, honoring her with her respectful title. "You mention that you summoned me here to be... a familiar?"

She immediately blushed at his words, her hands clasped together and rising up as she held them in front of her chest. "I... well... yes. That's right..."

"What does that actually entail?" He had an inkling as to what it meant, he was no fool after all, but he needed to hear it from the young woman herself.

His straightforwardness seemed to make her more embarrassed as she struggled to find the right words to say to him. "Uhh... you see... Tryndamere... well.. a familiar... is a magical servant." She seemed hesitant to say that last bit, aware that he might not appreciate his current situation. Henriette continued to explain, like she was trying to justify what she did. "It's really a... magical contract of sorts, that binds us together as, well... as master and servant. But really, I prefer the term partners..."

He was silent, crossing his muscular arms across his mostly bare chest, assessing his options. He concentrated, sensing if anything was different in the way he felt. After a moment, Tryndamere could indeed feel a strange and very slight sensation deep within his body that was not there before. Perhaps this was the magical energy of the contract that she spoke of, and if so he wondered what the conditions of the contract were. Whatever magic this was that now bound him, it was powerful enough to not only interfere with the magics that kept him in the League but also powerful enough to bring him all the way from Valoran to here, wherever 'here' really was.

She seemed suddenly very nervous to him, perhaps mystified and fearful by his silence. Before she could say anything else, he finally talked.

"Have you ever heard of a continent called Valoran?" he asked, needing to make sure that he was indeed far away from his homeland. He could feel the anger burning slowly inside of him, threatening to grow. This was definitely not a situation he thought he might find himself in and he was upset about how the fates seemed to have given him the shaft. And yet, perhaps there was a reason for all of this happening. The gods of his tribe worked in mysterious ways, after all.

Her eyes widened slightly, as if realizing something. Henrietta's response was immediate as she shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not... I'm so sorry..."

He gave her a quizzical look then. "Sorry for what?"

"For summoning you here... for binding you to a contract like this without your knowledge. It's... It's actually forbidden by law for Royalty to have familiars, and yet... because I felt so alone... because I was so weak... so... so selfish... I... I..." she brought her hands down to her lap again and hung her head.

"You're right," he stated simply, perhaps a little harshly even.

"Wh-what?" she said, surprised that he would say that.

"You're right. You were selfish. As a leader, you broke your own laws to fulfill something you wanted. You also tore me away from my tribe, my home, to be your servant," he continued, "So you're right. However, I accept your apology and do not hold any ill-will towards you."

This time Henrietta did not even know what to say, simply staring with teary eyes at the First Warrior of the North, confused.

"What is done is done, your highness. The gods, fate, what have you... they brought me here just as much as you did. There is a purpose to me being here, and I am admittedly interested to know what that reason is. What is important is moving forward from here. Always move forward," he explained to the young monarch.

After spending a moment to digest what he had said, she asked, hesitantly, "So... what happens now?"

Still sitting cross-legged, Tryndamere placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward as he rested his chin on his now intertwined hands. He stared coolly into her eyes as he replied, "Now, your highness, you must explain your terms."

-**xxxxxx**-

The hooded figure with a crimson coat was leaning against the wall in the shadows of an alleyway, one of many in the capital city of Tristania. Anyone who did not look closely enough would have missed the figure had they passed, which was entirely the point of why the figure was there. Not to mention that the figure was waiting for someone.

A moment later and someone turned into the alley, walking further. It was a rather large man who had entered the alley, large in the sense that he was a bit overweight with his belly hanging over his waist. He had a thick red beard and mustache with matching short curly red hair. He walked warily, eyes darting back and forth, having completely walked by and missed the man who waited in the shadows.

The figure wasted no time, walking up behind the fat man. "Do not turn around," the figure stated simply.

The big man froze, eyes wide, and he resisted strongly the urge to turn around. He valued his life after all, and these people were not to be trifled with.

"Do you have the information we requested?" asked the figure, straight to the point.

The man nodded, "Y-y-yes."

"Then tell me. If your information is no good... well, let's just say that things won't go too well for you."

It took all his willpower to prevent himself from letting his bowels loose at the suggestion of his death should they be unsatisfied. He gulped, trying to find the strength to gather his thoughts and speak.

"Spit it out, fool!" the figure growled, getting irritated.

That was all the push he needed as he gushed out the information that they had asked him for. In the process, he did soil himself, much to the disgust of the crimson-robed figure. Nevertheless, the information the man provided was vital for the operation that was ongoing, and hopefully soon-to-be accomplished.

When the man was done, he fell to his knees, his entire body shaking. There was no response from the hooded figure, and after a long while the man eventually found the courage and the curiosity to turn ever so slightly.

He was alone in the alleyway.

-**xxxxxx**-

"Explain... my terms?" repeated Henrietta. She had not thought about that, though she understood why he would want to. While there was indeed a contract now between them through magic, the contract simply bound him to her without actually stipulating any responsibilities to anyone involved in the contract. Though inherent in the contract was the fact that he was bound to protect her and serve her, what serving meant was not actually defined. She understood then why he would want to have terms and thus a specific definition of his responsibilities to her.

"Yes. If there is a contract of servitude, then you must at least explain to me the terms of my service," he said as if it was not really a big bother to him at all, which surprised her.

His philosophy about life was very refreshing and also quite surprising, given that he appeared to have been a great and respected warrior and leader in his home. Because of her summons, he now sat in the balcony of her home far away from his own lands and away from his goals and ambitions there. Not only that, but he was now bound by magic to serve her; however, even with all of that he seemed to have taken it all in stride.

While hesitant and understandably confused at first, he apparently accepted this sudden change in his situation. He attributed it to the gods or even to fate, and that there must have been a reason that he was there, a reason other than the fact that she gave in to a selfish impulse. She wondered if perhaps he was a crazy person, since she imagined that if she were in his shoes she would not like her situation one bit and would do anything in her power to change it.

Then again, he never did say he was not trying to change his situation or to get out of the contract, merely that he accepted that it existed. She shook her head slightly, clearing such thoughts away. It was not right to start such an important relationship with mistrusting thoughts like that. For now, she would trust him since he was now her familiar since the contract was completed and sealed with that kiss.

Thinking about the kiss made her lips tingle, her cheeks suddenly reddening as she found she could not look at him.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, his strong voice tinged with a little worry that she almost did not catch.

She finally looked at him, shaking her head mightily, "No! Nothing wrong. Sorry, I was just thinking about the terms of our contract..."

He rubbed his chin with his left hand, his arms still folded in front of his chest, "If I may, I would simply like to say that keeping the terms simple would be nice."

She thought for a moment longer, then finally came to a decision. "Well, inherent in the familiar contract is the responsibility to protect me," he nodded at that in understanding, "So basically, you are my familiar... so you must to stay by my side, follow my commands, and protect me. You are free to do as you please unless it interferes with any of these fundamental terms... And you must also call me by my name, Henrietta. No honorifics or titles or anything." She paused, then added, "Is this okay?"

He grinned. "Simple enough. It may have also been obvious, but it is better to hear the terms straight from you than for me to assume."

She let out a relieved sigh. Things were turning out better than she thought.

"Although, I do want to ask, your high- I mean, Henrietta. Have you seen my equipment around?"

The only thing she remembered seeing was him; she had not seen any equipment or anything other than the ones he was already wearing. She explained as much to the First Warrior.

"That's problematic, then. I need my equipment so that I may best serve you..." he trailed off, contemplating the matter.

"What equipment is that, if I may ask?" She was curious to know what types of items he was looking for because she could probably commission a blacksmith, either private or from the Tristanian Army, to craft the equipment he needed.

"Several items that have come in handy for me in my past battles," he said a little vaguely. "They are unique and powerful items of the League." Apparently he had figured out what she was trying to get at with her line of inquiry.

"Well, maybe they're around here somewhere..." she glanced around the balcony. The bright light that had flashed when the summoning was completed had blinded her and knocked her back, so she had not been able to actually see what happened during the actual summoning phase. She wondered if perhaps the items were scattered around the area. This was the first time ever that she had cast the familiar summoning spell after all.

"Well, in truth the only thing I really need from all my old equipment is my sword, but if it's not here... wel... hmm... no matter, I'll make do with whatever equipment I can get," he looked at her expectantly, "If you can get me some."

"Of course!" replied the Queen of Tristain. A warrior without any proper equipment was a rather useless warrior after all. She would make sure he got what he needed. A sudden thought popped into her head then as she remembered something that might prove helpful in this regard.

Tryndamere had stood up at that point, stretching to wake up some of his muscles. He walked over to the low wall at the edge of the balcony, looking out over the city of Tristania for the first time. He seemed sad to her, though she had no idea what to do or say to cheer him up. She wondered what he was thinking about and if he really was fine with what happened.

In hindsight, she never should have given in to her selfish and emotional desires like that. She knew better. After all the trouble that her selfishness and emotions had cost her throughout the past few years, she should have known better. Yet, even though she understood now that going through with the summoning was a mistake, it was not a mistake that she regretted. At least, not yet.

Taking stock of the surprisingly well-mannered barbarian, Henrietta marveled at how tall he was as she too stood up. She was barely tall enough to reach his chest, which meant he was probably six feet tall at the least. His worn armor actually made him look more dangerous, as it showed that he was undoubtedly battle-tested, plus it of course helped that he was pretty buff and intimidating to begin with.

She walked over and stood next to him, leaning against the low wall that kept her from falling off the balcony. Her gaze swept across her beloved city as the sun began to set, lights beginning to twinkle on all over.

"This is a beautiful city," he remarked.

She glanced sideways at him, studying him but unable to discern anything other than that he seemed a little sad in her eyes. "Are you... Are you really okay with all this?" Henrietta was not sure if she actually wanted to know the answer to that question, but she felt that she needed to ask it.

"I'll come to terms with it," replied the warrior as he continued to look out at the city, awash in an orange glow from the setting sun far off in the distance.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Thanks for reading. Two things: this happens AFTER the events of the anime (hence why Louise and Saito get married officially, etc.) and while this is a crossover, the story will take place entirely in Halkeginia and the Zero universe. Currently only element of LoL is Tryndamere himself... although there may be some surprises ahead. You'll have to read on to find out.

Also, the reason why he's not angry is simply because he only gets angry when in a hostile environment (which is often when he is in battle). Plus, Henrietta is a civilian and he does have, in my opinion, a strict moral code regarding civilians.

ONE OTHER THING: Chapters will get longer! Don't worry.


	3. Equipping a Warrior

**A Queen's Champion**

Equipping a Warrior

* * *

Henrietta nervously closed the door to her bedchambers, glancing up and down the hallway to see if anyone was there; it was empty. She walked briskly through the Royal Palace, heading for the private dining room that she and her mother used when they ate together, which happened often. Tryndamere would need food as well, so she made a mental note to bring some food back for him.

One of the biggest problems with having a familiar was that she needed to keep him a secret for as long as possible while she tried to figure out the best way to break the news to everyone, because eventually people were going to find out. Besides, she did not want to keep her familiar cooped up in her room all the time. That would simply be cruel, particularly for one as capable as Tryndamere seemed to be.

Entering the dining room, she noted that her mother was already there and quickly greeted her.

"Good evening, Henrietta darling. How are you today? Anything exciting happen?" her mother asked with a wide smile.

She smiled nervously. "Oh... ah, nothing too exciting, mother. How was _your_ day?" Nothing exciting other than the fact that she broke Tristainian law by summoning a familiar, who happened to be human and who at that very moment was staying in her bedroom.

"Oh, quite splendid really. I had the most wonderful lunch with Cardinal Mazarin earlier, and then I took a stroll through the gardens and ended the day with reading some of my books by the pond," she recounted to her daughter.

They continued to talk about lighter topics as dinner was served, though once dinner was over they eventually moved to some more serious matters. That was often the case, since her mother, Marianne, was the former Queen after all and thus well aware of the duties and responsibilities of the position as well as the goings on in the political arena. She coached and advised her daughter whenever she could, and Henriette was ever grateful of her help. The young queen knew she would not have done nearly as great a job as she had already without her mother's help.

"Remember, dear, that you are scheduled to meet with King Albert III of Germania this weekend to officially sign the peace treaty," her mother reminded her. "So you'll have to leave tomorrow if you wish to get there on time, and by on time I mean with some time to spare of course. You never know when unexpected things on your journey might crop up, so you should always leave a little extra time in your travel plans."

"Yes, mother. I know," she replied, having heard this before. Still, with all that had happened that day she had actually forgotten about the treaty signing. She would need to think quickly on how she might be able to bring Tryndamere along. A trip through the countryside would help to show him the land that he was now living in. Henrietta then made a show of yawning, which prompted her mother to tell her to get some rest.

She gathered a plateful of food and was soon back in her room. Placing the food on the table, she looked around and saw that Tryndamere was out on the balcony again, the open window door evidence of that. Walking over to the doorway, she spotted the tall familiar leaning against the low wall again as he gazed out onto the twinkling city.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked just as she shivered from a cool breeze that blew in, prompting her to hug herself even with her purple cloak on. It could get rather chilly in the capital city, especially high up in the Royal Palace where her room was located.

He snorted. "I've lived in temperatures far colder and harsher than this, Henrietta."

That made her wonder how far north his tribe actually lived. In fact, she realized she barely knew anything about his tribe other than that he was a prominent warrior in it and apparently they valued fighting prowess and strength. She made sure to ask him about that later.

"Well, I brought you dinner. I forgot to get you a drink though, so I'll go ahead and get some water for us."

He turned around and walked back into the room, Henrietta closing the door behind him.

"I understand that you want to keep me a secret for as long as possible, but it... seems wrong that the master would serve her servant his food and drink like this," he commented as he made his way over to the table, eyeing the food she had brought from the dinner.

"Didn't I tell you that I prefer the term partners, rather than master and servant?" she reminded him.

He shrugged. "Call it what you will, but this contract is one of servitude, as you yourself admitted to me."

She was still hugging herself as she stood by the door to her bedchambers, watching him as he ate the food hungrily. For once he did not act too polite in this matter, which amused her slightly. Perhaps he is a little barbaric after all. She left to go get something to drink for the both of them and returned a few minutes later with a pitcher of water and two cups.

It was a bit tricky to explain to the maid she had asked why she went all the way out there to get her drink as well as why she wanted to bring it back herself, but as queen she was not questioned. In fact, the maid was more embarrassed than curious since she thought that perhaps it was a failure of her duty that had forced the queen to go and get her refreshments herself. She assured the maid that it was not and that she simply wanted to walk around a bit and, seeing as how her walk brought her by the kitchens, she thought to bring her own pitcher of water to her room this time around.

By the time she came back, Tryndamere had finished his dinner already and he thanked her for the water. He sighed contentedly as he finished his cup of water and poured himself another.

"Thank you," said the warrior, his tone sincere.

"It was no problem," she replied as she sipped on her water.

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head as he did so. "Where am I supposed to sleep for now?"

Henrietta's eyes went wide. She had not thought about that at all. Oops.

-**xxxxxx**-

"There," said the purple-haired queen as she took half the pillows and one of her blankets off of her bed and placed it on the floor by the foot of her bed.

The dark-haired barbarian regarded the set up for a moment before unclasping his shoulder plate and wrist guards and placing them on the ground next to the makeshift bed. He then proceeded to lie down as Henrietta watched him. He felt comfortable enough and it would do. He certainly had not expected her to sacrifice some of her own beddings, but she was turning out to be a truly kind person.

"Thank you again," he said to her as he covered himself with the large, thick blanket she had provided.

"You're welcome," came the reply, followed by, "Please... don't look this way, I-I'm changing." The way she said it made him realize how uncomfortable she must have been feeling.

"I won't look," he assured her. He had no intentions of taking advantage of their current living arrangements. While some of the other barbarian tribes were cruder and wilder, his tribe was one of the few that bore a closer resemblance to the established kingdoms of Damacia and Noxus in that they were more cultured and civilized, as well as being one of the bigger tribes.

For a brief moment, he considered whether she would last as a monarch in Valoran. She was too kind and trustworthy, not to mention she did not seem to have any battle experience. The one thing she had going for her was that she could cast high level magic, as evidenced by her ability to summon him in the middle of a League battle. He then decided that it was unfair to judge her in that way, since if she were brought up as a monarch in Valoran she probably would be a stronger and tougher person than she was.

Thinking about that made him wonder what the magicians of Valoran, the ones who ran the League of Legends, were thinking with his sudden disappearance. They must be completely at a loss as to how it happened and he mused over that thought for a while.

He was already drifting off into sleep when he realized then that the blankets and the pillows all smelled of her. The smell was sweet and he was taken aback by recognizing it at first. This time it was his turn to feel a little uncomfortable, though he pushed all such thoughts from his mind and simply tried to focus on sleeping.

Tryndamere heard the rustling of beddings as the young monarch slipped into her own bed finally.

"Good night, Tryndamere." she said softly.

He adjusted his body a little, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Good night." he replied, the scent of the young queen filling his lungs with every breath.

-**xxxxxx**-

Agnes, captain of the Musketeer Squadron of Tristain, marched through the mostly empty halls of the palace as she made her way to the Queen's bedchambers. They were supposed to depart in a few hours to begin their journey to the border town of Cholet where the meeting between King Albert III of Germania and Queen Henrietta of Tristain was to take place. The purpose of said meeting was to sign the already agreed upon Peace Treaty brokered during a recent meeting of the Council of Nations.

While not in a state of war, the Peace Treaty would ensure that the two countries would continue to maintain peaceful relations into the future. After the events with the ancient dragon brought all the nations together, and after the war with Albion made the nations weary of battle, it was in their best interests to have the treaty in place.

It was a few days' travel to Cholet and under Lady Marianne's instructions, the Queen's mother, they were to leave today so as to make sure they were there on time. Henrietta was usually awake by now and she simply wanted to make sure that the young royal was ready for the journey. As the one of the Queen's most trusted servants, Agnes felt it was her duty to help Henrietta whenever and however possible.

Reaching the bedchambers of the Queen, she knocked first on the doors and waited for a response. A few minutes ticked by and there was no response, so she knocked again in case the first knocks went unheard. Still no response. A flash of worry coursed through her, after all someone had already kidnapped the young royal before and similar thoughts ran through her head.

She quickly opened the door, right hand already on the hilt of her sheathed sword as she strode in. Her eyes scanned the room intently and she gasped when she saw the muscular, black-haired man standing by the windows without a shirt on. She quickly got over her shock, closing her mouth which had been momentarily wide open as her jaw slacked. One quick movement and her sword was drawn and ready as she checked the room for the Queen, noting that the purple-haired young lady was still sleeping on her bed.

"I mean you nor her any harm. Please sheath your weapon before someone gets hurt." The man did not look at her when he spoke, continuing to stare out the windows. His hands were folded behind his back and he had no visible weapons.

Agnes continued to have her sword out, her body tense as she edged closer to the queen as she tried to position herself between the young monarch and the stranger. "W-Who are you? What are you doing here? Answer truthfully and I may let you live!"

The man was unfazed by the threat, his deep voice remaining calm as he replied to her. "I am Tryndamere, First Warrior of the northern tribes of Valoran."

Agnes had never heard of a place called Valoran, and she found the name Tryndamere to be very strange and definitely foreign. He did not seem to pose any threat, but still she could not be sure and needed to be on her guard. This could all be a ploy after all. "Why are you here in the queen's chambers?"

He finally turned then, his strong features shining a little in the morning sunlight that streamed in. "Perhaps it would be best if the queen answered that question herself."

"Ag...nes?" a groggy voice said her name from behind her.

She turned her head enough to look at the queen, who was now sitting up and rubbing the sleep away from her eyes, but not enough so as to lose sight of the strange half-naked man in the room. Her sword still hung by her side, ready to be used at a moment's notice.

"Your highness! There is a strange man in your room," she informed the monarch.

"Put your weapon down, Agnes." Having regained her wits and assessed the situation, Henrietta spoke firmly. "He means us no harm."

The captain of the elite Muskateer Squadron hesitated, but obeyed the command of her liege. Sheathing the sword, she still did not relax and kept one eye on the man as she asked the queen what the meaning of all this was. Even as she did so, she began to entertain the idea that perhaps the queen was under some kind of mind control spell or potion.

Henrietta let out a sigh. "Agnes, before I tell you I must ask that you keep this a secret for as long as possible. The fewer people who know the better."

The blonde captain gave a firm nod of her head, "Of course, your majesty. You know that I am trustworthy."

"I know." The queen got out of bed, still in her nightgown, and stood next to Agnes. Figuring that she could trust the captain, she gestured towards the dark-haired man, who remained by the windows, and told her the truth of the matter. "He... He is who he says he is. He is Tryndamere... and... he is my familiar."

Agnes, for her part, did not react badly to the revelation. She crossed her arms, placing a hand under her chin as she regarded the situation. "Ah... I see." she said, "But isn't that..."

"Forbidden? Yes."

"Then why...?"

Henrietta shook her head. "Because..."

"Nevermind, your majesty. You do not have to explain yourself to me," Agnes interrupted her, raising her hand and waving it a little to emphasize her point. "Though I will admit that this is troubling, as the other nobles will not be happy about this. The Royal Family of Tristain has never had a familiar in all its history, and your opponents will definitely seize this as an opportunity to attack you if given the chance."

"I know." Henrietta brought her hands together, fingers intertwining. "I do not regret it though."

Agnes glanced at Tryndamere, who had yet to really move. She wondered what his story was, other than being summoned here by the queen as her familiar. Looking back to the monarch, she asked, "Were you planning on bringing him along to Cholet? We must be on our way within the hour, your highness."

"Yes, I was hoping to bring him along, though I do not know how to explain his presence," admitted the queen in a troubled tone.

The captain thought for a moment, scratching the side of her head. A few options presented themselves to her, and she went over each one before deciding. "Well, your majesty, you can leave it to me." She needed to brief her soldiers the lie she was about to fabricate about the identity and purpose of the half-naked man standing in the room. The queen had done something reckless and yet she could understand why she did it, at least she thought she did.

"Really, Agnes?" there was surprise and hope in her voice as she spoke to the captain.

"I'll handle it. You just get ready as quickly as you can, your highness. Lady Marianne would be disappointed if we did not leave on time." She knew how to keep a secret, and she knew how to fabricate a lie when necessary. especially a big one.

-**xxxxxx**-

"Was it really okay to tell her about me?" Tryndamere asked her when Agnes had left. He finally stirred, walking over to the table and pouring himself some water, pointedly looking away from her as she started to dress.

Henrietta kept a watchful eye on her new familiar, in case he might be tempted to sneak a peek, as she responded. "I have trusted Agnes with my life before, and I continue to trust her. She has my full confidence, so it is not a problem if she knows. In fact, as she said, she might be able to actually help us."

Tryndamere said nothing as he drank his water.

She finished dressing, wearing her customary purple cloak over a beautiful white dress that went down to her ankles. The dress had long sleeves and a turtleneck, upon which were three turquoise jewels. The purple cloak was fastened across her chest by a silver pin clasp with a turquoise jewel on it to match the jewels on the turtleneck. Placing her crown upon her head and grabbing her wand, she walked over to Tryndamere.

"Let's go," she said.

The warrior stood up, though he raised an eyebrow as he looked at the queen. "Aren't you going to pack?"

"They already have my bags. My mother made sure to have me packed well before today," she explained. "Now come, I want to stop by the Royal Vault before we leave."

Winding their way through the halls of the palace and down many flights of stairs, the two of them barely passed anyone; there were only a few servants and the occasional guard, all of whom gave them, and more specifically him, strange looks. Being with the queen though meant that they did not ask any questions and merely bowed and greeted her.

"I'm sure Agnes' explanation of your being here will answer any questions that they might stir up." Henrietta proceeded to greet the four soldiers who stood guard in front of a large and elaborate set of metal doors. From the looks of it, the guards were not strong enough to open the doors and they made no move to do so. In fact, they simply stepped back and allowed them more room as they stood in front of the giant doors.

Henrietta then raised her wand and concentrated, saying a few lines under her breath. With a flash of blue light from the large blue crystal at the end of her wand, symbols on the door began to glow. There was a loud rumbling sound as the doors shuddered and then began to open, shaking the hallway in the process.

"What are we doing here, if I may ask?" Tryndamere broke the silence as they entered into a hallway lined on either side by large stone statues of knights. The duo turned the corner as they followed the hallway, finding themselves in front of a large circular door made of the same thick metal. This time Henrietta chanted some words under her breath and tapped the door, which began to glow. Another shuddering of the hallway, and seemingly the entire castle, and the vault door began to open some more.

"We're getting you some equipment."

"From a vault?"

She smiled and walked in. "There's a lot of valuable items stored here, some of which are high quality weapons and armor. I thought maybe you'll find something you could use."

Tryndamere was again silent as he walked around, his face impassive as he glanced around. Besides the mounds of gold, jewels, and other valuable trinkets, there were several weapons and sets of armor here and there. None of them caught his eye though, and none of them probably fit him either. He was a rather big man after all, and judging from Henrietta's size he figured no one in her family had ever been six feet tall.

Still, he did feel naked without a blade in his hands and with the state of his armor he may as well have been naked, so he appreciated what she was doing for him. He only hoped that he would indeed finding something usable, otherwise the whole side trip here was a complete waste of time.

He searched the large vault for several minutes, his patience wearing a little thin and he almost decided that there was nothing there and turned on his heel when he caught sight of something that he did not believe he actually saw at first. In one corner of the vault was a mannequin upon which were several items. Items that he thought were exclusive only to Valoran.

"Unbelievable," he said, stunned as he inspected the items up close. They were genuine alright, though he wondered how long these items had been there.

The mannequin was not completely equipped, but it had a few things he could use. The first item was a pair of full greaves attached to boots of the same metal. Berserker's Greaves, to be exact, made of the white steel that came from the Ironspike Mountains of Valoran. He recognized it immediately from the steel alone, though the markings and craftsmanship definitely helped. They were enchanted to greatly increase the speed and agility of its wearer, and to conform to the feet of the wearer as well so sizing would not matter. Sure enough, as he took off his old and battered steel boots and put on the Berserker's Greaves, he felt the magic shape the metal to conform to his feet perfectly.

The next item was a white cloak with intricate ruins sown with gold thread into the edges of it. This was a Negatron Cloak, a powerful item that helped to negate the power of spells cast against the wearer. In a world that seemed to be have a lot of magic, he figured that this would really come in handy some day. The cloak had a hood and stretched down to a little past his knees as he put it on.

Lastly, there were two red blades sheathed into a leather belt. These weapons were known to him as Phantom Dancer blades. They were enchanted to enhance the speed of attacks and, for a short period of time, allow the wielder to go into phantom mode. This mode phased the wielder out slightly from reality, meaning that the wielder was no longer a solid object and thus things could pass through the wielder and the wielder could pass through things. That said, the effect lasted for only a short time so it needed to be used carefully, and it could only be used a few times before the blades needed to recharge their energies in order to use the effect again.

While he did not like using short swords like these, especially dual-wielding them, they would serve his purposes for now. He was still adept at using such weaponry after all, though he felt most comfortable wielding a single blade, particularly a heavy one. Seeing these items from Valoran though gave him hope that there were other such items located in this strange, far-away land that might not be as far as he actually thought. After all, how did such items get there?

Tryndamere also wondered whether he was the only one from Valoran currently in Tristain, or any of the other nations in the continent. He did not even know what the other nations were, simply that there were more kingdoms and nations than simply Tristain. He wrapped the leather belt around him, making sure it was snug enough that it would not bounce around too much and yet loose enough that it was not straining.

He unsheathed the blades, taking one in each hand, and began to twirl them around and do other tricks and moves with them to check their balance and handling. It had been a long time since he had used twin blades like these, and were it not for the fact that the blades were enchanted to move faster than normal, he would have been moving them much slower than he was.

Henrietta came up to him, noticing that he had actually picked out some things, and she let out a small cry of happiness. "Ahh! You found some things you liked? That's great, Tryndamere!"

He nodded, smiling ever so slightly as he was amused at how happy she seemed for him. He turned to her and explained that these items were from Valoran, which she was shocked to learn about. "Any idea how these ended up here?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "Sorry, no. I've rarely come in here, and I don't remember hearing about the history of those items that you've picked out."

"I see. Well, maybe one day we'll figure it out. Now we should be off now, shoudn't we? We wouldn't want Agnes to think I was actually kidnapping you or assassinating you or anything," he motioned for the queen to go ahead of him towards the exit.

Tryndamere still had most of his battered armor, but the addition of the Negatron Cloak and the Berserker's Greaves, and his wielding of the Phantom Dancer blades, helped to increase his confidence. He definitely felt a lot better being equipped with these familiar items and sincerely hoped that he might find some more equipment from Valoran in the near future.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Thanks for continuing to read! :)

Note that the breaks (denoted by a -**xxxxxx**-) will indicate either a change of character focus or a change of scene altogether.


	4. A Scaly Surprise

**A Queen's Champion**

A Scaly Surprise

* * *

Tryndamere felt more comfortable with the weight of the blades on either side of him as he walked with Henrietta towards the Palace entrance. Being a First Warrior, he was of course trained in hand-to-hand combat, but it was in his opinion far better to have a blade in your hand than to use fists. The new boots he wore also felt far more comfortable than his old ones, particularly because they were not damaged, and he walked easier thanks to them.

Walking through the many corridors and hallways of the Royal Palace of Tristain, he looked around and studied the innards of the stone structure.

He noted that the main part of the Palace was well-designed for defense. The Palace itself must have been round, or at least somewhat round, as the hallways spiraled around the place. Each floor was horseshoe-shaped, with one end of it having the stairway to the upper floor while the other end had stairs that led to the floor beneath it. While this made it rather tedious to go up and down the Palace, in the event of a siege it would be very difficult to root out the defenders and capture the structure.

He made a note of this to Henrietta as they made their way to the lowest floor of the Palace after several minutes of brisk walking.

"You're very observant," she replied, looking at him as they strode through the entrance hall, a long and wide hallway with a high-ceiling. "The Kingdom of Tristain is... not very strong militarily, but what soldiers we do have are well-trained. That said, we use whatever means we can to make ourselves as strong as we possibly can be given our limited resources, and this Palace was designed exactly for that."

"And has the Palace ever been attacked before?" asked Tryndamere, curious.

"Once. Many, many decades ago."

"How did that battle turn out?"

Henrietta smiled at him as they neared the main entrance of the Palace. "The Royal Palace of Tristain has never been captured by enemy forces."

Tryndamere noted the six soldiers who stood at guard by the large set of wooden doors reinforced by steel. As they approached, the doors began to open wide with a low rumble, letting in a lot of sunlight that momentarily blinded the two. They kept walking though, and soon were outside just as their eyes adjusted to the change in luminosity.

Before them was an enormous staircase that led down to a roundabout with a fountain in the middle. One horse-drawn carriage awaited them along with a contingent of soldiers, some of whom Tryndamere realized were women. He thought it interesting that the women of Tristain would be willing to take up the life of a soldier. Even though he had seen Agnes earlier, he thought that perhaps she was unique in that regard.

Valoran had its fair share of female warriors, but most of them were exceptionally-talented and unique individuals who some consider to be heroines. The vast majority of the regular armies were male though. He guessed that Tristain being relatively weak militarily, as their own queen had mentioned, might have had something to do with there being women in the army here. Although it was entirely possible that it was also simply the culture and society here, which he still knew very little about.

He noticed that some of the soldiers gave him appraising looks and he wondered what Agnes had told them about him. The woman had said she would take care of it, but what that meant he did not know. He only hoped it was something believable and not too outlandish, though it was entirely a possibility that she simply told them the truth. He figured he would probably find out soon enough.

Nearing the carriage, Agnes approached on her horse. She dismounted with the ease of someone who had done it thousands of times before and knelt before the queen, placing her right hand over her left breast and bowing her head respectfully as her white cape fell around her.

"Your highness," she greeted the purple-haired young woman.

"Rise, Captain Agnes. Are we ready to depart?"

Tryndamere was rather impressed that she had attained the rank of captain, though he had suspected she was an officer the way she had come into the queen's bed chambers like that, not to mention the way she handled herself.

The blonde nodded, rising to her feet and meeting the queen's gaze. "Yes, ma'am. The Musketeer Squadron is ready and waiting."

"Then let us go. We have many miles to cover before we get to Cholet," said the queen as she glanced at Tryndamere.

Agnes walked closer, her tone lowering. "I explained to the soldiers that a prominent mercenary was joining our group, hired specifically by the queen for secret missions." She then looked at Tryndamere. "I did not tell them your name, so you're responsible for informing them of who you are if they happen to ask, though I doubt anyone will talk to you for most if not all of the trip. Speaking of the trip, I did get you a horse," she pointed behind her with her thumb to the horse she had been using.

The First Warrior of the northern tribes looked at her questioningly. "What about yourself?"

"I'll be driving the carriage," replied the captain curtly. "Now if there's nothing else, we should get going."

Henrietta reached out and lightly touched Agnes' upper left arm with her right hand. "Thank you, Agnes."

Within the next minute, Queen Henrietta of Tristain boarded her Royal Carriage with Agnes getting into the driver's seat. Tryndamere got onto the horse, a lot less gracefully than how Agnes had gotten off of it, but it worked. He had not been on a horse in a long time, mostly because there were not a lot of horses up north. There was also the fact that he preferred to walk everywhere anyway, unless needing to cover many leagues quickly.

Agnes waited for him to get settled before putting two fingers in her mouth and letting out a loud whistle, which was apparently the signal to begin the journey. The five soldiers ahead of the carriage and five behind were all on horseback as well, and the front five began to move with the Royal Carriage close behind at the behest of Agnes.

Tryndamere was off to the side and a little behind the carriage, not really in the formation and sticking out rather obviously. He did not care though, and neither did the Musketeer Squadron, which apparently only consisted of ten musketeers. Eleven, including Agnes. With him, that made it an even twelve guarding the queen, and he wondered if that was really enough of a bodyguard detachment. Not that it really mattered since he was there, as her familiar, and would defend her should an entire army happen to cross their path anyway. He only hoped there were more than enough of them, because he would not be taking it easy should that time ever come to pass.

-**xxxxxx**-

They watched closely as the Royal Carriage and its guards rolled through the city of Tristania. The path had been cleared for them by the soldiers and guards in the city, many of them lining up along the sides of the road as the people gathered behind the lines they had formed. They cried out with admiration and happiness towards the queen, some even going so far as to throw some flowers onto the road in an attempt to get them into the carriage.

When the din got particularly loud, it was because the queen had extended her hand and part of her head out as she waved to the crowds as they passed through the city. The information they received from their sources was usually excellent, if not perfect, but there was one big omission in the information they were given. That omission was the twelfth guard, someone they had never seen before and yet who wore a white cloak similar to the musketeers so they assumed it must be a new recruit. Still, they found it very odd that this newcomer was not in proper formation and nobody seemed to be yelling at him about it. Not that it mattered much to them, they were only there to observe after all.

Once the group cleared the city gates and entered into the countryside heading northward, there was a marked difference as the loud sounds of cheering and people talking gave way to the tweeting of the occasional bird and the light blowing of the wind. It was harder to keep track of the target outside the city, but they managed. And so far, they had not been discovered, and they had no intention of letting on that the target was being followed at all. This was not the first time they were following a target after all, particularly one so important.

-**xxxxxx**-

Henrietta brought one of the two flowers that managed to get into her carriage, taking a good whiff of its sweet scent. Her heart began to slow down to a more restive pace, the excitement of seeing her people cheering her on beginning to fade. She remembered the first time that she had experienced the drowning noise of the cheering crowds, and how frightened she had been. Now she soaked it up, basking in the love of her people. A love that she wholeheartedly returned as their monarch.

She placed the flower down next to the other on the seat across from her in the carriage, eyeing them for a little while before switching her gaze to look outside through the windows. The lush green fields, the multitude of trees, and the smooth rolling hills greeted her eyes. She always loved taking trips into the beautiful countryside of her kingdom, reveling the beauty of nature and the harmony of her people with the land.

There were many farms out in the countryside, the biggest pillar of the economy of Tristania being agriculture. The land was very fertile and ideal for growing all manner of crops, as well as for supporting many herds of different animals. There was more than enough sunlight to go around and the climate was very appealing for farming, though wintertime often brought snows and the occasional stretch of days where the sun would be hidden behind a gray blanket of clouds. Still, the wintertime in the plains of the kingdom was light and did not compare to the winters that Albion or Germania faced.

Germania. Vastly superior in military strength to any other country, the German Empire also held the largest amount of land among the five main kingdoms of Halkeginia. Their military might came from a combination of political emphasis, having the largest population, and excellent equipment. Their current Emperor, Emperor Albert the Third, was actually at one point betrothed to Henrietta.

Thankfully, though also unfortunately, the marriage had been cancelled when Henrietta adamantly refused and her parents relented. She was thankful that it had happened, but it was unfortunate in that it led to rather chilled relations with the German Empire from then on. Had Albert been truly angry about it though, he no doubt would have gone to war with Tristain. The fact that he did not implied that it was not something he had wanted to go through either.

Henrietta sighed, her hands resting softly on her lap as she thought of the young Emperor, Albert III.

He was several years older than her, but still quite young. Similar to what happened to Henrietta, his father died. Unlike her father, however, Albert's father was killed while fighting a rebellious uprising in the far eastern reaches of the Empire. Because of that tragedy, Albert was swiftly crowned Emperor of Germania and proceeded to lead the loyal armies against the rebels. Within a week, he had utterly crushed the rebellion, exhibiting exemplary leadership, strategic thinking and resourcefulness - a fact not lost on Henrietta, who admired his proven skills and accomplishments. He was praised and heralded as a great leader almost immediately afterwards and ushered in a few years of peace until the incidents involving King Joseph of Gallia and later on the ancient dragon that sought to destroy them all.

Now, months later, they were to meet again. This time at the small town of Cholet, only a few miles away from the Tristain-Germania border. She had not spoken to him much other than for business at the Council of Nations, and in truth both of them seemed only interested in formal interactions. Still, she hoped that this peace treaty could be the start of a renewed friendship between them, and their two countries, especially now that they were truly entering an age of peace.

She was brought back to the present when the carriage jolted to a halt. Looking out the window, she noted that there was still a lot of light out and they were not due for a rest period yet.

"Agnes! What's happened?" she called out, a little uneasy. Something had to be wrong if they were stopping prematurely.

-**xxxxxx**-

Tryndamere brought his horse up right next to the carriage, a few feet away from the female captain who held the reins. His eyes never left the sight before them, however, and it was quite the sight indeed.

The thing reminded him of the giant lizards usually found on the eastern banks of the Serpentine River back in Valoran. This lizard-looking creature had a torso that was as wide as three horses put side-by-side and as long as four, at its rear was a long tail with a thick mass of bone at the end that looked like it could break a man if it were to hit one. It's neck was not as long as the tail and at the end of it was a short-snouted head similar in shape to a lizard. Dark red scales were splashed with some orange ones in a random pattern, and the ridge of its back was lined with spikes.

"What's your plan?" he asked, eyeing the lizard with interest.

Agnes thought for a moment, her grip tight on the reins. "It might be best to wait for it to move along," she said.

"Agnes! What's happened?" the voice of the queen called from within the carriage.

"It's okay, your highness. We've got everything under control," replied the captain, still staring at the creature that seemed to be snacking on some kind of wildlife it managed to capture.

Tryndamere raised an eyebrow at that. "What is _it_?"

"A Molten Salamander. Thankfully a juvenile," she replied grimly, "But still... I don't know what it's doing here of all places, so far from the mountains where they reside." The suspicion in her voice was evident, and he noted that she did look around the area once in a passing manner that hid the fact that she was checking to see if they were being watched.

Truthfully, he had gotten the feeling they were being observed since they left the Royal Palace. Initially he figured it was simply a little paranoia coupled with the fact that throngs of people had apparently come to see the queen as she traveled through the city. When he still had the feeling even after they left Tristania, that was when he knew that his gut feeling might be right after all.

"Molten Salamander, eh?" he repeated the name. He shared her suspicions after learning that they were not supposed to be around these parts, but he was not the most patient of men, particularly when it came to traveling somewhere. He dismounted, still a bit clumsy but better than earlier, and was given a confused and then indignant look by the captain.

"What are you doing?" she asked, knowing full well what he intended to do but wanting to ask him anyway.

He smirked. "Well, this, ah... Molten Salamander, you call it? Rather coincidental that it happened to be here in the middle of the road we're traveling, far away from its normal territory as you've mentioned. Seems that someone was intending to delay us... but I'm not a fan of being delayed to my destination."

"But..."

"Don't bother helping me," he said sharply, "I wish to deal with this on my own terms."

She was about to say something again when he cut her off once more.

"Besides," he turned away from her and began to walk towards the big reptile as it munched on the carcass of whatever animal it had caught in its jaws. "I'm in a fighting mood."

"Hey, wait! You don't even-" cried Agnes, but he was already far ahead and ignoring her.

He was not lying when he said that he was itching for a fight. He had not even been able to train or practice any of his fighting skills due to the lack of weaponry as well as time, but here was a chance for him to let loose and to get loose. He traversed the distance between the group and the salamander, stopping about fifteen feet away from the thing, which had its back to them and its tail swinging idly back and forth behind it.

He clapped his hands once, loudly, to get the creature's attention and the salamander immediately froze at the sound, its entire body going rigid. He felt the adrenaline rushing through him as he readied himself for the fight to come, his fingers tingling a little as they readied to draw the Phantom Dancer blades at a moment's notice.

The red-orange reptile slowly turned, head and neck first, to face the black-haired warrior. It hissed, forked tongue flitting out into the air as its eyes locked on to his own, causing him to smile. It took a step closer, hissing again, rows of tiny but razor sharp teeth revealing themselves.

Yes, he could tell the thing wanted to kill him and eat him next. Too bad it was not going to work out for the reptile. He tensed his legs, bending down ever so slightly so as to be able to move once the thing attacked, which he knew was coming soon. Sure enough, the salamander leaped into the air with surprising speed for its size, but Tryndamere moved faster.

He strafed to the right, the salamander's large left front claw slashing into the dirt where he had stood only a moment earlier. A red sword was in each of his hands, seeming to gleam in the sunlight, and he brought his arms up and then down across his body, slashing in an X. He was surprised when the blades barely cut through the hard scales. He had enough time to follow that up with two more slashes before jumping back as the salamander snarled at him, eyeing where he had struck and noting that there was only a little damage.

This thing had a tougher outer shell than he had expected. He dodged again as the salamander swiped at him, this time moving to the left. Anticipating this movement, the salamander's tail suddenly whipped towards him, and reacting purely on reflexes he jumped up and placed his feet onto the small boulder-like bone at the end of the tail. The force of the tail and his own jumping motion as he kicked off of it launched him several dozen feet away as he tumbled in mid-air before landing, a bit roughly, on his feet as he plunged the swords into the earth to help stop his momentum.

He smirked again as the salamander let out a hiss that could have been loud enough to be a low roar. This was turning out to be a better fight than he had expected. Now he did not have to hold back as much.

-**xxxxxx**-

Henrietta stuck her head out of the window after she heard the ground rumble a little as well as the familiar noises of fighting. To say she was surprised to see a Molten Salamander on the road before them would have been describing it lightly. She was even more surprised to see that her familiar was battling it all by himself. The idiot was going to get himself killed if he kept this up, and she was not going to let him die like that.

"Agnes! Why aren't you helping him?" she demanded, noticing that none of her guards had moved from their saddles.

The captain turned her head to look at the young monarch and replied with a shrug, "He said he could handle it on his own, your highness. He looks to be handling it well."

Henrietta didn't care if he looked like he was doing well or not. "And you believed him? He's fighting a Molten Salamander, Agnes!" They knew full well what that meant, and they should have helped him anyway despite what he had told them.

"He's actually doing better than I expected. He's quick, he's strong, and he's smart, though a bit arrogant," Agnes commented with a touch of respect as they both turned back to watch the fighting.

The salamander took a deep breath, large slashes all over its body, though only a few of the strikes managed to actually cut its skin underneath the rock hard scaly exterior. Tryndamere launched himself towards the right flank of the creature as a jet of flames shot out from the reptile's mouth. He ran all the way down the length of the salamander, dragging one of the blades along the creature's entire right flank and jumping over the tail that had whipped back to try and get him.

He was not able to completely evade it, however, as it clipped his heel as he arched over it. This caused him to spin and fall to the ground, only barely managing to catch himself to prevent a harder fall. Henrietta shook her head, opening the door to the carriage and stepping out, getting worried and furious at the same time.

"Your highness!" cried Agnes with wide eyes, letting go of the reins and jumping off from her perch at the driver's seat. She barred the way forward with an outstretched hand as she looked at the queen with a hard expression. "I'm sorry, your highness. I cannot allow you to endanger yourself!"

"Agnes, please stand aside. I must help my fa... friend," she said as she gripped her wand tightly in her right hand.

The captain of the Musketeer Squadron merely shook her head as she stood her ground, unyielding. "No. If you truly want us to help him, then we will do it. But please, do not get involved yourself."

Typical of Agnes to act so stubbornly and dutifully. Even though she wanted to help her familiar personally, she understood that doing so would be embarrassing to the guards that had come along with her. The Musketeer Squadron would be more than able to handle this lone Molten Salamander. She nodded her head in assent and Agnes in turn lowered her arm before turning to bark out her orders.

She did not finish, however, as a short and sudden roar interrupted her.

-**xxxxxx**-

Tryndamere was done playing with the Salamander. He could have ended it earlier, but he had been using it as an excuse to train and sharpen his battle senses for the first time since arriving in this strange land.

Picking himself up from the ground, he gripped the swords tightly in his hands as he waited for the salamander to turn and face him once more. At first he had been excited at the prospect of a decent battle, but after a while it became evident that although this creature was tough, it was not good enough to handle him at his best. It had proven to be a nice distraction and a good chance to practice wielding the Phantom Dancer blades though, helping him to realize that even though the short swords allowed for rapid strikes with decent power, they were not very effective against heavily shielded and armored opponents.

For that, he truly missed his heavy broadsword. Had he been wielding his mighty weapon, he would have cleaved through the salamander with ease. Well, at least he knew the Berserker's Greaves worked as he noted that his agility and speed were much increased.

The salamander was heavily wounded from the strike he executed a moment earlier, the long slash across its right flank cutting deep as he had concentrated a lot of force into the strike. He had also made sure to target lower, cutting at a weaker point in the scaly armor as well as through parts of its right legs in the process. Limping, the salamander let loose a plume of flame again and he once more dodged it by moving off to the side.

The reptile surprised him a little when it leaped again into the air, this time not bothering to slash at him and instead trying to catch him in its jaws, its mouth wide open. Thinking quickly, he dove towards and underneath it as its jaws snapped closed a few inches above him. It landed on top of him, but there was enough clearance underneath the beast that he was not crushed.

He noted that the underbelly of the salamander was completely soft, and he grinned in triumph. He stabbed the blades deep into the reptile's underbelly and twisted them, causing it to rear back and convulse. Wasting no time, he rolled to his feet and pushed against the handles of the blades, ripping through more of the underbelly as the weight of the salamander fell on his back.

His momentum had stopped after going about a foot forward, the salamander's blood drenching him as the large gashes in its underbelly flowed with the red liquid. His legs strained under the sudden burden as the life began to leave the reptile, his legs threatening to buckle. Realizing this, he focused and channeled some of the energy he had been saving deep within him that had been accumulating as the battle continued on. The energy spread into his limbs and he found renewed vigor.

Letting out a mighty roar, he tensed and then straightened as he threw the salamander off of him. The limp body of the red and orange reptile tumbled a few feet away off the road, coming to a rest on its side as it stained the grass red with its blood.

The Negatron Cloak Tryndamere wore was soaked red with blood and his red blades looked an even deeper shade of crimson with the reptile's blood on them, dripping from the edges. He turned and looked at the guards and the queen, who he realized had stepped out of the carriage. They all had looks of shock and disbelief on their faces and he could not help but smile a little at that. He figured they had not expected him to win out like that, and it always gave him pleasure to exceed the expectations set upon him by others.

He flicked his swords, causing the blood flying away from them, and then walked over to the salamander while ignoring the looks given to him by the musketeers and the queen. He needed some better armor and he believed he found the right ingredients for a blacksmith to make him a new set.

Studying it for a second to determine where best to begin, he proceeded to stab into the creature and began to tear away chunks of its scale armor, much to the horror of the musketeers and the queen.

-**xxxxxx**-

After the fight with the juvenile Molten Salamander, Tryndamere looted chunks of its scaly armor, making an effort to take as much of it intact as possible. Placing them into some empty sacks that were packed onto his horse, he then found a nearby creek and washed as much of the blood off of himself as he could at the behest of the queen. She did not want him to go around soaked in blood, particularly when traveling with her. People might be suspicious and get the wrong idea.

He was somewhat amused as she fussed over him at first, wondering if he was hurt anywhere. Other than a few scrapes and bruises though, he was perfectly fine. He was used to fighting far more capable opponents after all, plus he was used to far more severe injuries than the ones he sustained against the salamander.

"That was impressive," Agnes remarked in a neutral tone as she leaned against a nearby oak tree, facing away from the creek where Tryndamere was knee-deep and quickly bathing. He had his undergarments on, but other than that he was naked. "Not many can face a Molten Salamander alone and best it."

"You said it was a juvenile," replied Tryndamere, scrubbing over a second time with his open hands to make sure he had gotten most of the blood off. The way he said the statement made it seem as if because it was a juvenile she should have expected him to beat it.

"Juvenile or not, a Molten Salamander is extremely dangerous," she answered evenly.

He grinned even though he knew she was not looking. "I'm far more dangerous than that scaly reptile."

The captain of the musketeers did not respond to the boast as she simply stood straight and walked away in silence.

When he returned to the group, they were already set to head out. They had initially rested while he went to bathe, but apparently when Agnes got back before he did she ordered them to saddle up. Queen Henrietta stood by her carriage, looking at Tryndamere while she held her wand loosely in front of her with both hands.

"Are you sure you got it all off?" She wanted to make sure he was clean of blood before they continued on.

"Yes... your highness," he was about to call her by her first name and then realized that there were others present who still did not know the true nature of his presence there.

"Good. Now let's get moving," she stepped into her carriage and, turning around to close the door, added softly, "I'm glad you were unharmed." She gave him a pointed look before sitting down and drawing the curtains across the windows. As soon as she was settled, the group began to move.

Sighing, Tryndamere easily got onto his horse. Checking to make sure his saddlebags were secure, he kicked the steed a little with his heels to get moving and catch up to the group as they had already moved a ways ahead.

A little after sunset, they finally caught sight of the tiny village of Authon, where they planned to rest for the night.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Thanks for the support! Read on, you readers you.


	5. Fiery Welcome

**A Queen's Champion**

Fiery Welcome

* * *

The village of Authon was a quiet little place with about a hundred residents, most of them farmers. There was a moderately-sized inn at the town square where the group stayed for the night, and there was a little bit of a commotion as news of the queen's presence quickly spread. Practically everyone in the village gathered at the central square, trying to catch a glimpse of their monarch.

Disembarking from her carriage, Henrietta made sure to wave at the crowd and smile, receiving a cheer from the townspeople for her efforts.

Once safely inside the confines of the inn, Agnes went to talk to the innkeeper, leaving Henrietta, Tryndamere, and the other musketeers in the lobby.

"They love you," Tryndamere remarked.

"And I love them," replied the young queen honestly.

Agnes returned to them. "Alright. I've secured an entire floor for us and there are enough rooms for everyone. We'll have dinner in ten minutes. Follow me."

They went up and Agnes escorted the queen to her own room at the end of the hall before assigning everyone else to their rooms. Tryndamere got the room by the stairs. A simple straw bed, a creaky wooden dresser, and a nightstand on the side of the bed that was towards the outer wall of the inn, two windows opening out into the night and overlooking the still-crowded square. It would do.

He lay down on the somewhat uncomfortable bed and after a while decided to go downstairs and get dinner since he was hungry. Stepping out of his room, he noted that there was a musketeer stationed right outside Henrietta's door, with another right by his own room guarding the stairs. The musketeer by his door glanced at him and he nodded at her as he walked past, descending the stairs.

On the first floor, next to the lobby area was a small restaurant with a bar. There, the rest of the musketeers were already gathered along with Agnes. At first glance he thought that only some of them were women, but now he realized the entire squad of musketeers was female. An empty seat was left next to the captain, which Tryndamere assumed was for him. Taking a seat, he noted the musketeers' talks grew quieter.

A young man came over quickly and gave him a menu, and he simply found the dish with the most meat in it and ordered that.

"Where you come from," Agnes suddenly said as she continued to eat, "Is there a lot of fighting?"

Tryndamere let out a snort, looking at the - at least to him - small warrior. "Yes. There is more than enough fighting. Some say too much. I would say not enough. Why do you ask?"

"Your armor is nearly ruined, and not from age. But from battle. _Many_ battles, from the looks of it."

The warrior smiled. "I was in the middle of a great battle when I was... called." He realized with amusement that he had been summoned while battling in the Summoner's Rift arena. His food finally arrived then and he nodded in thanks to the young man who brought it as he set down a mug of ale by him as well.

"And you said that you were some kind of... prime warrior?" Agnes asked.

"Is it truly wise to speak of this here?" He eyed the musketeers around them, who appeared to him to be interested in their conversation. Although he did enjoy the fact that the captain seemed to be relaxing a little and warming towards him, speaking openly about such things in front of her soldiers was certainly not a good idea in his mind.

Agnes shrugged, "They know that you're a mercenary from a far away land and hired by the queen." She looked around at her fellow musketeers, many of them stealing glances at the big warrior at the end of the table. The stolen glances did not escape the man's notice.

Tryndamere raised an eyebrow at her statement. "The queen approved of telling them this?"

"No. Not exactly. It was my decision to tell them that you are a mercenary," she replied evenly, then in a low voice so only he could hear, "It's close to the truth, after all. These are my most trusted soldiers too, so even if they knew the full truth they would not tell a soul."

In his experience though, with enough pain applied in the right places, anyone would talk. Sometimes without even knowing that they had said anything at all. But he left that unsaid and simply nodded. "Yes, as First Warrior I am the greatest fighter of all the northern tribes of Valoran, in the cold tundra of the Freljord. Or, I guess _was _before I came here." He was not in Valoran anymore and he had a different path now.

"Impressive. Though I already knew you were skilled from your display earlier." She looked to him, her plate clean and her cup of water empty. "I've never seen someone wield two blades with such grace and strength before. In fact I rarely see anyone wield two blades around here."

"I trained in many arts of fighting and spent many years honing my skills," he said as he bit into a deliciously thick chicken leg. "But to be honest, I'm more comfortable with a heavy two-handed blade."

"Didn't you have one then?"

He frowned. "I do have one, but it was not with me when I awoke here. I don't know where it is."

"Well, I'm sure the queen will gladly have one made for you," the captain said as she drank some wine. "We do have excellent blacksmiths back in Tristain."

"Perhaps. My blade is special to me, and I hope to be reunited with it somehow." There was no way the blade did not come along with him to this strange land, for it was bound to him by more than just blood and sweat, but he still didn't know why the blade wasn't near him when he was summoned by the queen.

Some of the musketeers got up then, done with their meals and wanting to get some rest. Only two remained with their captain and Tryndamere, and they sat opposite the pair.

"Tryndamere, these are my top lieutenants," she gestured towards a redhead with curly shoulder-length hair and green eyes, "This is Rachelle." Tryndamere exchanged nods with her. "And this is Gretchen." She had long straight black hair tied back into a ponytail and dark brown eyes, and she also exchanged nods with the First Warrior.

"Now, I think it is my turn to ask some questions," Tryndamere said as he finished up his food, downing it all with ale as he tipped the mug dry. "Does this land have many battles too?"

Agnes looked to her lieutenants a little uneasily. "Not really. But it was only a few months ago that we ended the latest war that Halkeginia has endured."

He sensed the unease, realizing that the war must have been harsh. "So there is peace now?"

The blonde captain nodded, "Yes. Thankfully. And we go now to Cholet to meet with King Albert III of Germania, a neighboring kingdom to the east, in order to sign an official peace treaty that will help maintain that peace."

"I see." He was curious to know how strong the military of Germania was. And any other kingdoms in Halkeginia for that matter. Tristain, he knew from the queen, was not very strong militarily and since he served its leader he thought it prudent to know more about the lay of the land. So he asked.

"Germania is the biggest kingdom in Halkeginia, and it has the biggest and strongest military," replied the captain, stifling a yawn.

Rachelle nodded in agreement. "If there was war with Germania... as much as I love Tristain, we would not stand much of a chance. They are too strong and outnumber us ten to one, at minimum."

"Every citizen of Germania is required to serve in the military for a minimum of two years. That, along with the fact that they expend much of their wealth into their military, has helped magnify their military power," added Agnes, "This is why we _need _to make sure there is a lasting peace between our kingdoms."

Tryndamere looked to Gretchen, expecting her to add her own two cents, but she remained silent. "Is their leader respectable? Will he sign and honor this treaty?"

Again the musketeers exchanged looks.

"Well, King Albert the Third is a good friend of the queen," Agnes replied slowly.

"She was betrothed to him once before," Rachelle added, receiving a slight glare from Agnes that the redhead didn't see, "An arranged marriage actually."

The big warrior listened keenly, intrigued. "_Oh_?"

"Rachelle," Agnes growled.

"Sorry, captain," the woman apologized, putting a hand to her mouth, "And sorry, sir Tern... Tyrn..."

"Tryndamere," he said helpfully.

"Tryndamere," she looked apologetically at him, "But I've already said too much. If you want to know more, perhaps you should ask the queen herself."

He nodded. Perhaps he would bring it up with the young monarch at a later date, though it didn't really concern him and it wasn't a priority to know.

Agnes yawned and then got to her feet. "Well, I need to get some rest. You should all do the same. We have a long day of riding ahead of us." With that she left, her white cloak swaying behind her.

Gretchen stood and left, following her captain out with only a silent nod to bid them farewell. Rachelle and Tryndamere stayed, the latter ordering another ale and the former simply too intrigued to be talking to this warrior from a far away land.

"What do you think of Henr- what do you think of the queen?" Tryndamere suddenly asked, catching himself being too informal again.

Rachelle was taken aback by the question, giving him a questioning look. "Well, I am loyal to her, if that's what you're asking. I am sworn to serve her until death."

"That's not what I meant," responded Tryndamere. "What do you think of her as a person?"

"I... uh... I think she's very kind and loving. She cares about her people and she works hard to do her duties well. She is selfless and honorable. Her highness is... a wonderful person, an ideal leader."

Tryndamere chuckled, "Well said. It sounds almost like you were specifically taught to say those things about her."

"But I wasn't!" Rachelle said with dismay at his reply. "What I said is the truth and they are my own words."

Again he chuckled. "Be calm. It was a jest."

Rachelle relaxed, laughing a little at her overreaction. "Oh. I see."

"So what's your story anyway? You've heard mine already, at least part of it," said the big warrior.

The musketeer frowned, "I don't actually know much about you beyond the fact that you are the queen's familiar and what you've disclosed earlier."

"That's more than most people around here know."

"That's true enough. I'd rather not say much more beyond... well, I had a difficult and troubled childhood and joining the musketeers has given me a chance to redeem myself for my past." She had a sad look in her eye that Tryndamere did not fail to notice, and he decided not to pursue the topic anymore.

"I believe we should get to rest as well. As your captain said, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow. It was a pleasure speaking with you, Rachelle." Tryndamere rose to his feet.

Standing, she said, "And it was good to talk with you even for a little, Tryndamere."

As he lay on the straw mattress of his bed, Tryndamere could not help but think of how much more peaceful he seemed to feel here. It was almost as if leaving Valoran so far away, with no possibility of return had dampened the burning anger that had always blazed within him. Oh, it was still there, the fire of his rage deep in his soul, but it was subdued. It was quieted. It was, so far, unneeded. But how long would that last?

-**xxxxxx**-

Dawn came soon enough, and Henrietta yawned as she stepped up onto the step that led into the carriage. There was another crowd gathered to see her off and she waved at them too, but not as big of a crowd as last night. Apparently there were some people who thought starting work on time was more important than watching the queen continue on her journey, and she was happy for that. A part of her felt guilty for drawing so much attention away from their work after all, although she knew that such distractions were welcome out here in the countryside.

She glanced towards the rear of her contingent, spotting the muscle-bound figure of her familiar sitting comfortably upon his horse. She saw his eyes meet her gaze and smiled at him and he bowed his head in greeting.

"Ready, your highness?" Agnes' voice called from her perch atop the front of the carriage.

"Oh! Yes, Agnes. I am ready. Let us go," she said a little flustered as she entered the carriage and a musketeer shut the door behind her.

They traveled for hours along the main road, the sun high in the sky by the time they stopped for a break amongst a copse of pines, grateful for the shade they provided from the heat of the noonday sun. Henrietta stepped out of her carriage and thankfully accepted a sandwich from Agnes. A blanket was brought out as well as some cushions from the storage compartment of the carriage and was laid out on a well-shaded grassy area, where the queen sat and ate her lunch. The musketeers ate their own sandwiches in silence, setting up a perimeter around the area.

Tryndamere gobbled his own sandwich in three massive bites, and Agnes actually gave him another one, which he took gladly and ate up much the same way as the first. Henrietta marveled at his appetite. It was hard not to see why he needed all that food though, given his physique.

"Do you feel it, Agnes? There are eyes watching us from afar," remarked the poorly-armored warrior as he looked about with squinting eyes.

Agnes frowned, a hand touching the hilt of her sword. "I felt it a few times this trip, but I thought I was simply being paranoid," she admitted.

Worriedly, Henrietta looked around as well but unlike the other two she felt nothing. "Are we safe?" she asked, clutching her wand tightly in her right hand.

"They haven't done anything so far," replied the captain of the Musketeer Squadron. "Have you actually seen anyone, Tryndamere?"

The warrior shook his head. "Not a soul. But I know they are out there, watching."

"Then we can't do much but continue on and be even more on our guard," replied the captain. "If they try anything-"

"If they try anything, I will make sure their deaths are quick," Tryndamere said darkly. His hands twitched over the crimson blades that hung from either side of his waist.

As gruesome a thought as that was, Henrietta did feel better by his words. She only hoped he wouldn't need to do any killing, because that would mean they would be attacked.

"Well, if you could, at least spare one of them," Agnes said, "We'd need someone to interrogate after all."

Tryndamere grunted. "No promises."

They continued traveling until sunset, at which point they moved off the road and set up camp on a field by a small river. The road ahead led to a bridge that would allow them to cross said river, though the river was short enough across and shallow enough that if they really wanted to, and didn't mind getting a little wet, they could get across on their horses. Not that they would seriously consider that since doing so would defeat the purpose of having a bridge there in the first place.

-**xxxxxx**-

They moved again at first light the next morning, a fog having rolled in overnight and now giving the surroundings a grayish, eerie look. The musketeers had one hand on their weapons and another on the reins of their steeds, eyes ever searching, trying to pierce through the veils of fog that covered the area.

"This would be a perfect time for an ambush," Tryndamere noted loudly as he brought his horse close to the carriage, and close to Henrietta.

Agnes gave a nod. "I agree. Be ready."

When was he ever not?

"Cholet is only four hours ride from here. We're almost there," the captain informed everyone, though Tryndamere had a feeling it was more directed to him since he was the one not from around here.

The fog continued to follow them, or at least spread as far as they were traveling so far, and so their progress was much slower than they would have liked. It was almost as if the fog had been called just for the very purpose of slowing them down. Tryndamere wondered if it was likely that a magician could have crafted this fog, but he didn't say anything about it to his companions.

Going on five hours, the heavy fog still encircled them, dampening even the noonday sun as they finally crested a hill that Agnes recognized.

"Cholet is on the other side of this hill. We should be able to see it from the top, were it not so foggy," she said.

"I have a strange feeling this fog isn't natural," remarked the warrior from Valoran. The feeling of being watched had intensified, and he actually thought he saw some shapes moving through the fog, though he could not say for certain if his mind was simply playing tricks on him or if there really were things moving out there.

As they crested the hill, one of the musketeers up front stopped and turned with alarm towards the rest of the group. "Do you smell that?" she asked.

Tryndamere inhaled and on that first breath did not smell anything, but in the next breath he could smell it and he turned to Agnes, who had a look of dread on her features.

"Smoke..." she whispered. Then her expression hardened and so did her voice as she spoke loudly. "First squad, go ahead and check on Cholet. Second squad and I will remain here and await your return."

"Is it wise to split our forces in this fog?" Tryndamere asked seriously, but the captain only glared at him as the forward group of musketeers galloped ahead and disappeared into the fog.

Barely a minute had passed when gunshots sounded, prompting Agnes to scowl. "We must turn back!" she cried as she started to guide the horses to turn the carriage around.

A strong gust of wind buffeted them all, the horses whinnying in protest, and just like that the fog was lifted.

Tryndamere sighed. In that moment, he hated being right. He had thought there was trouble and he did not want to split their forces needlessly. Down below at the base of the hill, the town of Cholet was engulfed in flames. From the looks of things, the fires had been burning for hours. None of the musketeers who went ahead returned, and the sounds of gunfire had stopped.

"Let's go!" Agnes repeated as they all snapped out of their shock.

"What's going on?" asked a worried Henrietta as she looked out the window at Tryndamere.

He was about to reply as he turned his horse around when a ball of fire came crashing down nearby, blasting into the ground with such force that it knocked him and three of the remaining five musketeers off their horses. Not even the carriage escaped harm as it was pushed over onto its side, wheels spinning.

Tryndamere got to his knees, a hand pressing into the dirt road as he steadied himself. He glanced towards the carriage and hoped that Henrietta and Agnes were okay.

The attack had come from above. That was the only place that it could have come from without them being aware of it. Sure enough, glancing up he saw what looked to be small dragons barely bigger than a horse, with riders in full armor on their backs. They could have killed him with that surprise strike, or at least seriously hurt him, and failing to do either was their gravest mistake. Phantom Dancer blades were already out in his hands, the crimson steel shining in the sun and begging for blood to bathe in as he grinned up at his flying opponents.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Updated finally.


End file.
